Yand and the Handy Advice
by Darkpenn
Summary: Unable to move forward, Yang receives support from an unexpected visitor.


**Yang and the Handy Advice**

 _Unable to move forward, Yang receives support from an unexpected visitor._

 _[Author's note: This story takes place at the beginning of Volume 4, when Yang is staying at her father's house, soon after Ruby's departure.]_

 _Yang_ Xiao Long was sitting at the table in her family house, staring out the window and generally feeling sorry for herself. Occasionally, she touched the stump of her right arm; the pain had gone but the feeling of loss had not. She glanced at the Atlas mechanical arm lying on the table.

From outside, she heard a small airship touch down. Qrow went to meet it, and a few words – the tone not altogether friendly – were exchanged.

Then General Ironwood appeared at the door.

"Good day, Miss Long," he said. "I was just passing, on my way to, er, Vale, and I thought I would check to see how you were going with the arm."

"Just passing, eh?" said Yang. "Well, you might as well take a seat, General, and you can call me Yang."

He sat down, facing her across the little table. He drew a round flask from a pocket. "Do you mind?" he said.

"Not if I get some," replied Yang. She reached back with her left arm and took two cups from a rack and put them on the table. General Ironwood filled them both. They drank.

"Do you have a first name?" said Yang.

"General," he said. He gestured at the mechanical arm. "Have you tried it?"

Yang looked away. "I ... I ... I don't think I ever will," she said. She touched the stump of her arm. Then, embarrassed, she took her hand away.

General Ironwood refilled the cups. "If it matters," he said, "I know how it feels."

Yang gave a bitter laugh. "How could you?" she said softly. "How could anyone know?"

General Ironwood held up his right hand. Then, slowly, he pulled off what Yang suddenly realised was a flesh-coloured glove. To reveal a gunmetal grey mechanical arm. He tapped his shoulder; there was a metallic _chink_. Then his leg: another _chink_.

"I ... I'm sorry," said Yang. "I didn't know."

"No need to apologise," he said. He pointed at the mechanical arm lying in front of Yang. "Compared to this one, mine is almost a museum piece," he said. "New-gen Atlas tech. The medical people offered to replace mine with one like this but I said no. We've been through a great deal together, and I'm rather attached to it."

Yang gave a little laugh. She picked up the arm and looked at it. "Attached?" she said. "I didn't know you had a sense of humour, General."

He stared at her. "I don't," he said. "I understand that Glynda added a little hex as well. I told her that technology and magic do not always go well together, but I learned long ago that my wife will do what she will do."

Yang was inspecting the flexible fingers. She had expected the thing to be heavy but in fact it was –

Wait ... a ... second ...

"Uh, what did you just say, General?" she said.

"That this is new-gen Atlas tech?"

"No, the other thing."

"That technology and magic don't always go well together?"

"No, the other other thing. About Glynda. That she is your ... what?"

"Oh, that. My wife."

Yang's jaw dropped.

"I ... I thought you didn't like each other."

"Sometimes we don't. But, yes, we have been married for many years. Our duties often keep us apart. And to tell the truth, these days we do tend to rub against each other if we are in the same room for too long. There's a lot of history."

Yang had a sudden flashback to the Beacon dance, to an image of Glynda and Ironwood dancing. Dancing close. Dancing like people who know each other very well dance. At the time, she had thought nothing of it, but now ...

"Huh," she said.

"And she is, well, so damned attractive."

Yang stared at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Hey, we might be older," he said, "but we're not dead."

"It sounds ... unconventional."

"Yes, I suppose it is. You see, Yang, this is a difficult path, demanding much. Maybe everything. You lose the chance for a normal life. You lose friends. You even lose a part of yourself." He pointed at the place where she had once had an arm. "Sometimes literally.

"I believe, Yang, that what you are holding is not just an artificial limb. It is a choice. You're young, it's not too late for you. You can honestly say that you've done your duty and you paid a price for it, and that's enough. You can step off the path. Take a different direction, find a nice fellow to love you, settle down and lead a decent, ordinary life. That sounds pretty good right about now, doesn't it?"

"Yes," said Yang softly. "Right about now, it does."

Qrow came in. He said: "Well, Jimmy, I said you could have ten minutes and your time is up. So on your way, I'm sure there's a hall somewhere that needs monitoring."

General Ironwood nodded. He stood up, bowed to Yang, and walked to the door.

"One thing," said Yang. "Is it worth it?"

General Ironwood stopped in the doorway. "Yes," he said over his shoulder. "It's worth it. If you're strong enough." Then he was gone, and a few moments later Yang heard the airship lift off.

"That guy is a moron," said Qrow. "But he is ... one of the brave ones. What did he say to you, Yang?"

Yang was silent for a while, staring at the mechanical arm. Then she said: "That the future is what you choose it to be."

END


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